I consented to Mar's requests to have a bit of blue dye in her hair. I sweated this one as a self conscious mommy. And in the end I found myself (sort of incredulously) in the kitchen with a small pot of blue dye and my daughter wrapped in a towel. The towel figures in this prominently.
Let's blame it.
I asked Mar to wrap the towel up around her head and the resulting movement (performed with flare, as is her way) caught the open jar of blue. Oh, drop a jar of blue. Not so bad. Right? Did it NEED to bounce? And roll?
The splatters were/are impressive and far reaching, and the effect immediate. There is no 5 second rule with dropped, bouncing blue.
Trying to mop it up gave us more blue over a wider area. Mar was frozen there in shock as I tried to clean it up without spreading it about. "Wow," she told me. "My friend's mom would have been SCREAMING by now."
I don't know why by the big things (like a whole jar of permenant SHOCK blue taking over your kitchen) just don't get my dander up. And it was an accident (not like the socks and wrappers under the table).
I could not get all the blue up. And blue is NOT actually my favorite color, unfortunately.
Li came home from school and said, "Jeez, mom, did you murder a smurf?" Ha. I fixed him with my mommy stare and asked if he would like to have a go at cleaning it up.
It took my husband two days to mention anything. Even though he is in and out of the stained door every day. Appaently, the whole "Crap, I've got permenant dye splattered everywhere" is just not that amazing to him after 17 years together.